


thanks, without the you

by thir13enth



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Oops, totally experimental format, unrequited makoharu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7237618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's in the little things that matter, he supposes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thanks, without the you

**Author's Note:**

> slightly AU. assume everyone attends the same high school.
> 
> prompt from SASO 2016: [this pic](https://i.imgur.com/IuazqxG.png)

 

_Makoto knows everything there is to know about Haruka. And it's all in the little things that he does to show he cares._

_He packs lunch for Haru every day,_

 

Makoto makes sure to tuck a piece of mackerel into one of the lunches that his mother gives him in the morning, because his mother always forgets that Haru doesn't quite feel full unless there is some version of the salty canned fish included and Makoto has resorted to just adding it in himself in an effort not to bother her more than his request for extra food.

He reseals the lid over the bento box as best as he can without disturbing the rest of the neatly organized vegetables and rice, and the first thing he does when he sees his raven-haired teammate that morning is hand him the prepared lunch.

"Haru," he greets.

No one else is around so there's no need to say his name, but Makoto also likes the way the gentle r rolls over his tongue.

Haru's ocean blue eyes acknowledge him and Makoto announces that he brought lunch for him.

"Ah," Haru tells him, not reaching for the offered bento box. "It's okay. Thanks."

Makoto quickly withdraws his outstretched hand.

He pretends the non-exchange never happened.

It hurts Makoto to need to do something out of the ordinary rather than keeping everything inside him as he always does, but it hurts Makoto even more to see what he doesn't want to see happening because he doesn't yet want to realize that he's no longer going to be taking extra lunches to school just in case--

So this noon, for the first time, Makoto sits in a lonely corner on another building rooftop than the one he normally eats, avoiding his friends. Avoiding the teasing and teasing until Haru finally accepts someone else's rice-and-mackerel lunch. Avoiding the need to tuck an extra serving of food behind his back so that they don't ask him why exactly he brought two bento boxes with him that day and why one of them is uneaten.

 

_he walks Haru home all the time,_

 

Today, Haru and Makoto end their days in the same class, so it isn't surprising that when the school bell rings, they shuffle through the hallways, out the double doors -- spilling into the outside courtyard together with all the other excited-the-day-is-done students.

Makoto grips the strap of his shoulder bag, clenching a fist hard into the rough fabric.

"Haru," he says, like a call out into the empty night that he doesn't suspect anything but the wind will answer. "I can walk you back home."

It's not a question. It's a declaration.

But it's soft, and it's uncertain, and Makoto still doesn't know what he really means by the words that he's saying.

Haru blinks, before briefly glancing behind the two of them. Makoto reminds himself that he can't make any assumptions about _who_ Haru is looking for.

"I'm fine," Haru replies. "You should go on without me."

Then he steps out of sync with Makoto, and Makoto almost trips and falls when he finds his feet following after the other man when he really just wants to move forward.

"You sure?" Makoto blurts.

Haru nods. "Thanks," he affirms, offering him a small wave goodbye.

That night, Makoto plays the music in his headphones loud. Louder than the tick of the clock mounted on the plain white wall of his room. Louder than his slow sluggish heartbeat. Louder than the cheerful laughter and chatter that he overhears through his window in voices that sound like his best friend and _his_ best friend walking each other home.

 

_and he always saves his extra movie tickets for Haru._

 

"You wanted to watch that at some point, didn't you?" Makoto asks Haru, gesturing toward a poster plastered onto the window of a passing convenience shop.

Haru looks to where the taller man is pointing before answering with a quiet yes.

Makoto takes a second to breathe, hesitantly thumbing the bottom edge of his white inside shirt, his blue button-down.

"I have two tickets from that monthly blood donation again," he says. "Let's go watch that movie together, yes?"

Haru seems to take a second to breathe as well, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his black hoodie.

"I think I'm watching with Rin at some point," Haru finally informs him.

Makoto understands. "I see."

"Your brother wanted to watch, too, right? Save that ticket for him instead."

Haru gives him a small smile.

"That's a good idea." Makoto returns as wide of a smile he can. "Thanks!"

Later, Makoto invites his sibling to watch that same movie with him instead and tries to keep his eyes ahead on the screen and his thoughts on the plot, rather than elsewhere. Rather than the sight of two painfully familiar figures--a shade of black, a shade of red--just a few rows ahead of him. Rather than the sight of one of them whispering snarky comments about the film close to the other's ear. Rather than the thought of their held hands under the armrest in the dark dark theater.

 

_Makoto knows everything there is to know about Haruka. And it's all in the little things he notices that make him not want to care._

**Author's Note:**

> (whispers) first time writing in the fandom. gah... everything is awkward. everything is wut. nothing sounds right. ahhh. (curls into a ball at the dark corner of the bed and shivers)


End file.
